


wasteland, baby!

by feyre_darling



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Adopted Children, Adoption, Domestic Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck, Flashbacks, Flirty Jesper Fahey, Holding Hands, Kaz holding a baby because YES, Marriage Proposal, Moving In Together, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad and Sweet, Sailing, Secret Marriage, Tattoos, it's not his baby though don't worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27822526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feyre_darling/pseuds/feyre_darling
Summary: post crooked kingdom, Jesper moves in with Wylan, Inej sets sail, and Kaz leaves the window open for when she comes back. snapshots of their life spanning over the years, including a real wedding and a fake one, dyslexic kids, a lost Suli girl and a tattoo of an R that does not just belong to Kaz.(written before i finished the last book, so some details are changed. not proof read bcs i'm lazy lol) Title is a song by Hozier :)!CHAPTER ONE OF THE SEQUEL IS OUT NOW!
Relationships: Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa
Comments: 68
Kudos: 124





	1. i love you too, silly

**Author's Note:**

> for hannah. love u lots. the next chapter will be coming to your post box very soon ;)

chapter one  
_Jesper._

When Jesper walked onto the ground floor of the Van Eck mansion, his jaw literally dropped. 

“Holy _Ghezen_.”

“Yeah.”

“Wylan, you _lived_ here.”

“I’m aware of that, Fahey.” 

“Hey!” Jesper turned around to where Wylan was dragging a heavy brown bag through the doorway. It was mid-afternoon, and the winter sun had just begun to set behind the brow of the hill to the north of Ketterdam’s harbour. Here, in the more prosperous part of town- the significantly more prosperous part- the dank smell of the slums’ canal and the smouldering fumes that billowed out of each chimney in a foggy haze of smoke seemed a whole world away- a world quite different from the streets of the Barrell. Quieter, Jesper had decided. Quieter, and a lot cleaner. 

“None of that cheek, Merchling.” Jesper nodded towards the doorway, where a stack of bags lay waiting. “I won’t help you take them in.”

Wylan shrugged. “It’s mostly your stuff, anyway.” He moved to close the door and yelped as Jesper hurled himself into the gap, squeezing himself in between Wylan and the half-open door, grabbing the merchling’s arm that was suspended in mid-air as he reached for the doorhandle. 

“Jesper.” Wylan frowned disapprovingly, but there was a slight edge to his voice that sent an excited shiver down Jesper’s spine, a kind of _‘we’re supposed to be doing things, stop distracting me but also please keep distracting me’_ glint in his sparkling eyes. 

“What?”

Wylan sighed heavily, and used his other arm to slam the door shut. Jesper felt his back press up against the doorframe. 

“You really are the most awful person in the whole of Ketterdam.”

“More awful than Kaz?” Jesper challenged. His hand tangled in Wylan’s curls, and he pulled him closer so their faces were almost touching.

“Kaz doesn’t flirt shamelessly in every possible situation, Jes.”

“Kaz is a cold-hearted bastard, that’s why.” His hand travelled to Wylan’s face, and he smirked as the boy’s cheeks flushed a deep pink. “You look cute when you blush.” 

Wylan blushed harder. His eyelids fluttered shut. “Stop distracting me.”

“You mean ‘please keep distracting me’?” 

“Maybe.”

Jesper grinned and pressed their faces closer together. “Alright, Merchling. I’ll see what I can do.” He muttered against Wylan’s lips. Wylan sighed, murmured something that sounded like ‘idiot’, but it was lost completely as Jesper swivelled round, pushing the other boys’ back to the door instead and capturing his lips in a deep kiss. 

“Ah-hem.” A voice from behind stopped Jesper just as his hand had begun to slide under Wylan’s shirt, trailing up and down his torso so lightly he could feel Wylan shiver. He turned around, almost begrudgingly, to see Inej standing in the middle of the grand hallway, hands on her hips; tall boots and long sailors cape swishing around at her ankles, blades tucked securely into her belt. She raised an eyebrow.

“I thought you were supposed to be unpacking.”

“We are.”

Inej scoffed at Wylan, and Jesper couldn’t help chuckling at his boyfriend’s face- cheeks scarlet pink, curls dishevelled, with his shirt now riding halfway up his torso, stuck halfway up around a button. Ghezen, it was fun to wind him up.

“Looks like you were unpacking a little more than suitcases, Jesper.”

Wylan’s face turned almost purple. “Inej-” He stammered. “I thought you were supposed to be on the ship by now?”

Inej made her way towards them, and stopping in front, tugged Wylan’s shirt back down. She pointed at Jesper with a grin. “Naughty.” 

“I try my best.” He smirked.

“I just came to say one last goodbye.” Inej said. Something dark clouded her face for a moment, and Jesper realised, as much as Inej had wanted to go, sail the world, take down slavers, it was hard for her to leave Ketterdam, to leave her friends. Hard to leave Kaz- as much as she didn’t want to admit it.

“You’re gonna be fine, Inej.”

Inej shifted from one foot to the other, face pulled into a frown. Suddenly she looked younger, more fragile, as if someone had pulled away The Wraith and left a sixteen-year-old girl in its place. Jesper hated that look almost more than he hated Kuwei. He didn’t like to see her like this. It made him feel sick- like the world was ending or something. _‘Look,’_ He’d once said to Wylan, back at the Ice Court. _‘You’ll know everything’s fine if Inej and Kaz are going strong. If they go down, then you know we’re all fu-’_

Wylan had not let him finish the sentence. But that’s what it felt like now, watching her deep-set frown and nervous teeth chewing on her bottom lip, eyes wary, rimmed with sadness and maybe a little fear. Jesper hated it, and he couldn’t think of anything else to do, so before she could reply he barrelled straight into her with wrapped her in the tightest hug he could. 

“Saints, Jesper! Calm down!” Inej squealed, but there was a tinge of laughter in her voice that eased the tension in Jesper’s muscles immediately. Wylan joined in too, and soon the three of them were enveloped in the biggest hug to ever exist, right in the middle of the Van Eck mansion.

“I’m going to miss you losers.” 

Jesper laughed. “Five minutes and you’ll be glad to be rid of us.”

“Yeah. Probably.”

“Ah, there we are. Some of that unwavering Wraith loyalty.” He pulled out of the hug and winked. “Now go piss off some slavers for us.”

**(okay, now if you would like to, put on the song ‘Anchor’ by Novo Amor and then read this bit-)**

Jesper woke around midnight to a sound that he’d heard only once before; a sound that twisted his gut and made him nauseous, as if someone had just stuck a knife right in there and had started to turn it around, slowly. It had taken the entire evening to unpack their bags, mainly because Jesper couldn’t sit still, and Wylan, for all his talents, was not the best at keeping his concentration. 

_‘It’s because of you, Jesper. You’re always distracting me, I can’t ever get anything done!”_

_“You’re not putting up much of a fight, Wylan.”_

_“Yeah, well, how can I? When you-”_

Wylan had not been able to finish what he was going to say, but unsurprisingly, he didn’t particularly mind. They spent the next half an hour _not unpacking_ , and it took them until almost eleven to finally finish. Jesper was asleep by half past- next to Wylan, of course, in the room that was once Jan Van Eck’s. Jesper felt terrible for Wylan- it must be strange, to be back in the same place you spent a significantly shitty part of your childhood in. But he was also happy, in a strange way. Sleeping in the master bedroom with enough _kruge_ in their bank accounts to last a lifetime felt like a big fat finger up at the man who had cost them so much. And everything was perfectly fine, until he woke up later to the sound of Wylan’s sobbing.

Jesper sat bolt upright, tangled in the sheets, disorientated by the darkness and horribly aware of Wylan’s crying, which seemed too far away too find. He reached out blindly and found Wylan’s waist, wrapping both arms around him and pulling his back in towards his chest. 

“Hey.” Jesper said, his voice rough from sleep. “Who decided midnight was breakdown time, huh?”

Wylan let out a choked laugh. “It’s…it’s ten past, Jes.” He said in between sobs.

“Alright, ten past, then.” The room was cold, and Wylan was shivering- or maybe _shaking_ , Jesper couldn’t tell. He vaguely registered the fact that Wylan was shirtless, but decided against another stupid joke. Instead, he lay back down onto the bed that was way too big for just two people and pulled Wylan down with him. Wylan buried his head in the crook of Jesper’s neck and let out a huge sob. 

“What is it?” Jesper asked gently. “Wy, what is it?”

“Stupid.” Wylan responded. 

“Incorrect answer. Try again.”

“Ridiculous?” 

“Sorry, your card has been declined.” 

“Jesper, I’m serious.” Wylan sniffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, sighing a little as Jesper’s hand found his hair and started to run his hand through it. 

“So am I. Nothing you say will be stupid. Well, actually, that’s probably a lie, you say plenty of stupid things. But not right now.” Jesper took Wylan’s tearstained face in his hands. “Talk to me.”

Wylan’s eyes fluttered shut. He took a deep breath. “I’m scared my mother’s going to hate it here.”

Oh. That caught Jesper off guard. He was expecting something else- anything else but this, really. 

“But…she’s your mother, Wylan. She still remembers you.”

“Yeah, the eight year old version of me.”

“She’ll be glad to get out of the asylum. She can paint, whenever she wants. And play the piano.”

Wylan’s chest shuddered. “But what if she isn’t glad? What if she’s so messed up by what my dad did to her she can’t even set foot in this goddamn house?”

Now Wylan was using curse words. Jesper knew it was bad. 

“You can’t think like that.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to think?” Wylan covered his entire face with his hands, and Jesper felt Wylan’s body start to shake again against his chest. “She’s the only family that’s ever loved me- the only _person_ that’s ever truly loved me, but what if she doesn’t even love me anymore?”

He started crying again, and Jesper felt his heart shatter. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” 

“No.”

“Yes.” Jesper said. “Yes, it’s okay. She’s going to love it here, Wy. She’s going to love you- she does love you. At least, she’ll love me- and my ridiculously long limbs and the fact that I never sit down for more than five minutes.” He swore that Wylan laughed underneath all the crying, and felt a tiny bit better. “She’ll love it. We’ll find a way to help her, I promise.”

After a while, Wylan stopped crying, and there was silence- long enough for Jesper to think that Wylan had suddenly fallen asleep. But then he shifted in Jesper’s arms and let out a long sigh.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“Didn’t mean what?” Jesper asked.

“What I said, about my mother being the only person who’s loved me. I think- I think there’s someone else who- well, they might love me. I don’t know. Never mind.”

Jesper chuckled softly. _Oh, Ghezen. This boy._ “I know what you mean, you curly haired maniac.”

“You do?”

“I’m not stupid, Wylan, I-”

“That’s debatable.”

“-Hey, not fair! I know what you’re trying to say, so yes. That’s your answer.”

Wylan stilled. Jesper swore he could hear his heartbeat drumming loudly through the empty room. 

“Yes?”

“Uh huh. I love you, silly. You and your stupid face. Which I’m really glad you got back, by the way.”

He couldn’t tell if Wylan was breathing or not. 

“We’ve not even known each other for that long, Jes.”

This time, Jesper let out a howl of laughter. It reverberated off the cold walls and somehow made the room feel a little warmer. “You want me to take it back?”

Wylan struggled with his words- “No! No, that’s not what I- No. No, I don’t. I don’t.”

“Good.” 

They lay there for a while longer, in a silence that was warm and not cold. Jesper had almost fallen asleep when he felt Wylan’s lips press softly onto his own. 

_“I love you too, silly.”_


	2. the devil's backbone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **trigger warning** for PTSD and just Kaz related sad stuff. pls be careful lovelies!
> 
> also in this chapter Inej is meant to be singing 'The Devil's Backbone' by the civil wars, so if you put on the song and imagine her singing it then hopefully it works as I intended it to lol. thank you to the amazing person who let me know abt copyright issues when I first posted this chapter (and then took it off about an hour later haha) I really appreciate it! with a bit of editing i have managed to save it... i think?

_chapter two  
inej._

It had been seven months, four days and sixteen hours since Inej had set foot inside the Slat, but somehow she could still picture it- every slanting ceiling and musty wooden beam, every creak of the stairway that changed its pitch significantly to accommodate Kaz and his cane; every curve and corner and incline of that godforsaken place that had, over the years, become as much of a home to her as Ravka had been. It was strange. It was her still her home, yet something was different. She noticed it as soon as the building came into view.

Climbing up the side of the Slat, Inej headed straight for the window at the very top- opened presumably by Kaz, to give her easy entry, although there was no light on in his attic room, no movement or sign of a shadow cast onto the glass by candlelight. Even the crows had all disappeared, some of them flying, some perched high up on the top of the fire escape far out of sight. Inej wondered if he was asleep. The thought made her insides churn a little. She hadn’t seen him in half a year, and aside from a few letters scribbled hastily below deck in a brief moment of solitude, no real contact either. Surprisingly, hunting slavers didn’t leave you with much spare time to catch up.

Inej swung her legs over the ledge, and after a brief moment of hesitation, landed on the floor soundlessly, directly in front of Kaz’s bed. The room was pitch black, but the moon, shining a pale silver across the window frame, lit up his face with a sliver of white; sharpening his cheekbones and travelling across his eyebrows to rest in his dark hair, which seemed to have grown out since Inej last saw him. Now it was longer, curlier, more unkempt- still with the sides shaved, but somehow it made him look softer, less intimidating. More like the eighteen-year-old he was supposed to be. He did not move as she crept further into the room, though his closed eyelids flickered every now and then, accompanied by a slight twitch of his hand that suggested he was dreaming.

Inej held her breath for a long time as she removed her boots, her coat, her quilted vest. Untied her knives from the belt around her waist and called each of them by name- _Sankt Petyr, Sankta Alina, Sankta Marya, Anastasia, Sankt Vladimir, Sankta Lizabeta_ \- before dropping them onto the table beside the bed. She held it as she moved silently across the room, and did not stop to breathe until she was lying on her side, facing him, close but not touching. 

Then, Inej slept. 

It was early the next morning when she woke with the feeling of someone touching her hand- holding it up, fidgeting with her fingers, intertwining them with almost cautious precision. She scrunched up her eyes, shaking her head slightly to try and dispel the strange dream she seemed to be having, and opened them into Kaz’s own dark ones.

He didn’t say anything, and Inej was too stunned to either, so for a while they just stared at each other, shadowed by the dull morning light, hair rustled by the wind that was coming in from the window Inej had forgotten to close.

_He’s holding my hand._ Inej repeated the words in her head. _He’s holding my hand. He hasn’t told me to leave. He doesn’t want me to leave._ She tried not to stare at his gloveless hands, softer than she thought they would be, and instead focused on his eyes. They looked back at her with intensity, the pupils dilated, but he did not let go. Soon, his hand started to shake. Then, his breathing, increasing slowly, feverishly shuddering. And then his whole body, as if the room had suddenly dropped to -10 degrees and was turning into an icebox. Inej started to pull her hand away, but Kaz gripped it tighter.

_Not yet,_ His eyes said. _Not yet._

She let him hold it. Something tight gripped and clawed at the inside of her throat when his forehead broke out with beads of sweat that caught in his hair, but still she let him hold it in silence, right until he closed his eyes with a shuddering exhale. 

“Can you-”

“Yes.” Inej knew what he was trying to say. _Can you help me._ She’d said it all before- to him, mostly, when memories of the Menagerie or the bottom of the slaver ship or Tante Heleen had overcome her. _Talk to me, she’d said, distract me, sing to me if you have to, I don’t care, just get me out of this._

She didn’t know where the song came from, or why she decided it was a good idea to sing it, but for some reason that’s all she could think of to do. She’d never been a particularly brilliant singer, but she could hold a note one hundred times more successfully than Nina, though she didn’t very often. Her mother had been a singer- and still was, singing to Inej whenever she went to Ravka to visit. She still hadn’t figured out how to repay Kaz for what he had done, bringing her parents back. Something like that could never be repaid.

The song she started to sing came from her mother. It was an old Suli lullaby she had heard many times as a child, usually sung when she was sick or one of her cousins had taken a bad fall. It had been sung in her family for generations- eerily beautiful, but almost a little sinister too. 

_(play ‘Devils Backbone’ by the Civil Wars here, this is what she’s singing <3 )_

Kaz looked as if he were going to be sick, but as Inej sang, his breathing slowed. Then the shaking slowed too. His next exhale was far steady than the ones before- and still he held onto her hand, fingers intertwined together, resting on the bedsheets. Inej wondered how much of the song Kaz could understand. She’d been teaching him Suli for the few months they’d been together before she left for the ship, but she doubted he would catch anything in such a native tongue, together with Saints-knows what flashbacks wreaking havoc in his mind. Still, she kept singing. Kaz’s hand was slick with sweat. He stared at her with wild eyes, watching her lips as the words flooded out, as if one glance away would leave him sinking at the bottom of the ocean.

There was silence for a while afterwards. Inej didn’t move her hand- she just watched, carefully, as Kaz let out a heavy breath. Somehow, she saw the corner of his mouth lift up into some sort of a smirk. His eyes fluttered behind closed eyelids, hand tightening around her own; voice low and rough, laced with sleep and exhaustion and a glimmer of surprise.

“Are you sure you didn’t write that about me, Wraith?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a wylan chapter will be next bcs i miss them already oops


	3. a sudden proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!  
> i had no idea how to write wylan's mam in this chapter, considering how she was in crooked kingdom/ the asylum. but i imagine she remembered a lot more when she returned to the mansion and this is how i picture her after four or so years.  
> hope you enjoy ;)

_Chapter three  
Wylan._

**-The song for this chapter is ‘Hello My Old Heart’ by The Oh Hello’s. I don’t really know why, it just IS OKAY.-**

On his twentieth birthday, Wylan woke up early with a thought. 

He had slept well enough, in exactly the same position he always slept in; lying on his stomach, arm under the pillow, Jesper pressed close to his side when they first went to sleep and somehow ending up even closer when they woke. His long arm was slung across Wylan’s back, face buried in his curly hair, ruffling it with each slow exhale. Slowly, Wylan over onto one side, Jesper’s arm shifting to lay across his stomach. His breath caught in his throat. 

_Four years,_ Wylan thought. _Four years, and he still makes me feel like I’m blowing something up in my own stomach. In a good way, though._

Jesper mumbled something in his sleep, the words muffled by Wylan’s hair. The explosion in Wylan’s stomach got even more intense. Something had definitely caught on fire in there. In a good way, though. The thought, which had slid into his brain the second he opened his eyes mere minutes ago, increased in volume; the quiet whisper it had been was now at shouting level. When Jesper murmured something again and pulled Wylan closer towards him, it was almost screaming. 

Wylan shifted under Jesper’s weight and slid out of the side of the bed as quietly as he could. He tugged on some trousers, socks; grabbed one of Jesper’s shirts that was slung across the armchair and pulled it over his head as he made his way across the landing, padding softly down the first set of stairs, louder down the second and practically running down the third. By the time he reached the kitchen, the thought had nearly exploded out of his ears, and before Wylan could stop himself, he blurted it out in a nervous string of letters.

“IwanttoaskJespertomarryme.”  


His mother looked up from where she was standing against the counter, reading her book. A delicate smile played across her lips. She reached across the side and held out a parcel wrapped in brown paper.

 _Oh._ Wylan had been so preoccupied with The Thought that somehow he had completely forgotten his own birthday. He took the gift from his mother and kissed her on the cheek. 

“Thank you, ma. I almost forgot.”

“Again.”

It was true- he did always forget every year, not just on the days when he was distracted with planning to marry someone. Up until the age of eight, around the time his mother had supposedly died, birthdays were okay- even sometimes enjoyable. But after that, after his dad changed and no longer considered him to be of any worth at all, they were all forgotten. He hadn’t received a single birthday present after that until his sixteenth, when Jesper had bought him a book of ten Beethoven symphonies. Weirdly, there was no writing on the front cover, and Wylan remembered how his stomach had dropped when he unwrapped the package and found a _book_ in his hands.

_“Jesper, love of my life, you do know I can’t read, right?”_

_“Oh, Wylan, you adorable little idiot. It’s music, see? For the piano. Or the flute, if that’s what Beethoven does. I don’t really know the guy.”_

Wylan had opened the cover, and indeed, it was music. Jesper had laughed for approximately thirty-five minutes after that.

Back in the kitchen, birthday gifts opened, Wylan flew into a blind panic.

“Do you think it was obvious, ma?” He fretted. “Do you think he knows I’ve been thinking about this?”

“I knew.” She spoke in her usual way; soft and melodic, quiet as a butterfly fluttering its wings.

“You did?”

Marya nodded. She pointed to his eyes. “I saw in here.” Her whole complexion had lit up, making her eyes sparkle, cheeks rosy and flushed as she smiled at Wylan, who was now pacing up and down the kitchen in a flurry of anxious movement. He stared at her in nervous anticipation. 

“Do you think it’s a good idea?”

His mother smiled, and nodded her head. _Yes._

Wylan huffed. He ran his hands through his hair and leant back against the table, blowing out a heavy breath. “What if he says no?” 

Marya smiled again and placed her book down by the stove. She said nothing, only held out her arms, and Wylan was quick to fall into her embrace. He sighed heavily again, hugging her tightly. 

“I just don’t want to force him into it, that’s all. I know we’re young. I just- I can’t get it out of my head. It’s always there, and I don’t know how to make it go away.” Wylan groaned. “I mean, I don’t want it to go away, I just-”

“Shh.”

Wylan leaned further into his mother’s embrace and fell silent. It was only when he heard the thud of someone taking the stairs three steps at a time that he started to panic again. His mother must have noticed in his eyes, because she pulled away from him gently and kissed his forehead. Her eyes glittered. _It’s okay._ Wylan had become good at reading her, just as she could read him. He knew she wanted him to do it. Jesper was already family to her- marriage would just be the next step.

Suddenly, Marya stepped back and held out her hand. Sitting on her palm was a beautiful gold ring. It looked like one from Novyi Zem- a traditional Zemini engagement ring. Wylan gaped at it, lost for words, just as a loud explosion of legs and arms and energy that should not have been possible so early in the morning burst through the kitchen door. Jesper had become far less hectic since he had started using his Fabrikator powers, but he was still an extremely hyperactive bundle of a person. Marya let go of Wylan, winking, and glided through the doorway with a furtive smile, hugging Jesper tightly as she passed. As soon as she had gone, Jesper’s hands were on Wylan’s face, kissing him furiously. Wylan felt his back press up against the kitchen counter, and thought of the first day they moved into the mansion. 

“Happy birthday, Sunshine.” 

“You’re up early.” Wylan noted, trying to keep the waver out of his voice. Usually on the weekends Jesper was the last one up; he would stay in bed all day if he could, though his excuse was always that _‘I’ve never been exposed to this kind of quality mattress, Wy. You’ll have to give me another four years to get used to it, and then maybe I’ll get up at the crack of dawn like you and ‘Rya.’_

“I’ve got a present to give to you. I was planning on doing it later, but I think now’s as good a time as any.” Jesper grinned, and there was something in his expression that made Wylan’s stomach churn. _Scheming face. That’s a scheming face._ It set off another explosion in there, even bigger than the last. He had absolutely no idea what Jesper was planning.

Well, absolutely no idea right up until the Zemini boy got down on one knee right in front of him. Then, he had a bit of an idea. Just a little bit.

“Wylan Van Eck,” Jesper began, and Wylan almost fainted dead on the spot. “…love of my previously dangerous criminal gambling life, fire of my incredibly long and attractive loins… will you marry me?”

Wylan stared, opened mouthed, gaping like a fish out of water. _Oh, no he didn’t. No way. In Ghezen’s holy name, no way._ Slowly, he brought his hand out from behind his back and held out his own ring- the one that his mother had shoved into his hand right as Jesper had entered the room- watching as Jesper’s eyes grew wide. 

“Only if you’ll marry me too.”

In less than a single second Jesper was on his feet, and Wylan almost dropped the ring as Jesper’s mouth crashed onto his own. They broke apart after a long time. Jesper’s chest was heaving, mouth pulled into a grin, dark eyes sparkling brilliantly.

“Shock is good for us, right?” Wylan gasped. “Because I was _not_ expecting you to do that, and I think I’m having a slight heart attack.”

Jesper laughed heartily. He slid the ring onto Wylan’s finger and held out his hand for his own. “I wasn’t expecting you to do that either, Sunshine. The ring..” He motioned towards it. “…it’s beautiful. It really is, Wy.” 

“Yours isn’t so bad, either, you know.” 

Jesper grinned and kissed him again. Wylan’s stomach did an explosion so big it almost knocked him off his feet. 

“-and of course shock is good for you,” Jesper said. “You know why?”

“Why?”

“It jogs the liver!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is it me or do they always make out in my fics ALL the time 
> 
> (i'm not mad about it)


	4. tattoos and stab wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i would like to apologise for the severe lack of in-character characters in this chapter, it was INSANELY hard to write Kaz but let's just pretend he's slightly different at 24 yrs old haha
> 
> also the street that he's in is quiet because its a back alley- i know it's not super accurate for the Barrel to be 'empty' but if its down a shitty little side street I think we can pretend!!
> 
> *warning- cursing in this chapter, and some description of bloooood ew*

_chapter four  
Kaz._

There was something exhilarating about having a tattoo no one else knew about. Of course, the R on Kaz’s bicep was no secret; the others had seen it many times before, though he was sure no one knew what it meant. His Crows tattoo- well, that explained itself. A symbol of the Dregs, not uncommon among the residents of the Slat, and yet indefinitely more frightening on him than on anybody else. But this one, the new one, still red and angry under the fabric of his shirt; this one felt different. 

Kaz stopped walking and surveyed the cobbled street leading down towards The Slat, tapping his cane and listening as it reverberated against the stones, echoing through the fog and settling dark. An arrow, tattooed onto his chest, pointing straight down at his heart. Out of the three, it was his favourite. It wasn’t like the others, reminiscent of the families he had had, of course, but with hardly any good memories attached to them. The others remind him of chaos. They were pain and rage and fire and deceit. This new one wasn’t like that. This one was calm; it was the ocean, soft waves lapping over each other, sea salt and jasmine and dark brown eyes. It was an echo of a phrase she had told him seven years ago, when everything was falling apart and only a Proverb could keep her afloat.

 _‘The heart is an arrow.’_ He heard Inej’s words clearly through the smog and the mist dancing around his feet in the depths of the Barrel’s streets. _‘It demands aim to land true.’_  
For a long time, Kaz didn’t understand. If his heart was an arrow, he didn’t want it landing anywhere. He wanted to keep it, shut away in a safe only he knew the combination to, with locks only his quick gloved hands could unpick. He did not want it to land true. Nothing was true in this godforsaken city, with its dirty streets and rotting smoke and deception hiding around every corner. _He did not want it._

Somehow, though, she gave it to him. With her soft eyes and good heart, she took his arrow and demanded it, if not to aim true, just simply to _aim_. Kaz didn’t intend for it to aim where it did, but when his arrow landed, it shot straight into hers, and he could not pull it out no matter how hard he tried. _And he tried_. But it didn’t work, and now he had another tattoo. He didn’t deserve that tattoo as much as he didn’t deserve her, but it was there now, and he couldn’t take it back.

Kaz realised he had been walking for a long time. He was meant to be heading to The Slat where Inej was waiting for him, but as he looked up from his fixed gaze on the stone floor, it was not The Slat that faced him- but Reaper’s Barge.

The hammering in Kaz’s ears started before he could control himself. His heart began to beat rapidly under his coat, and as he fought to regain some sense of composure, hands tightening into fists underneath the gloves, his whole body started to tremble. It was not Reaper’s Barge itself that frightened him; he had visited it hundreds, thousands of times since Jordie with barely a glance in its direction. No, it was the fact that he hadn’t realised where he was going that really scared him. He had been so distracted, he had wandered here almost automatically, unaware of his surroundings or who might be watching nearby. 

Kaz never did that. In all his years in the Barrel, not once had he let down his guard. Even when he was a small boy, he was always aware, always watching, always ready. But this time he _had_ let down his guard, most likely due to the sleepless night he had had, thanks to a horrible dream about bodies and the water and Jordie. Maybe that was why, in the split second as he realised where he was, the man was able to slide up behind him and stick the knife right in his side.

The pain was not sharp- in fact, it barely hurt him at all, and for a moment he stood there, frozen and confused. The man who had stabbed him was already running by the time Kaz forced his head up from looking down at his side. Other than him the street was completely empty, and as the man disappeared round a corner, Kaz found himself alone. 

His head was swimming. He braced himself against the wall with one arm and used the other to try and stop the blood that ran down his side like a particularly vivacious drinking fountain. All of a sudden there came a burst of light behind his eyes, and pain shot through his torso, blinding his vision with white and choking the scream that bubbled up at his throat. Kaz doubled over against the wall and coughed. Blood splattered onto the cobblestone below him.

 _Oh, for fuck’s sake_. Inej never liked him cursing. If he were going to do it, she used to say, he might as well do it in Suli- it sounded nicer that way, less aggressive. But Inej wasn’t here, and as the pain got even more intense, Kaz let out a violent string of curses through gritted teeth, silently telling Inej’s Saints that he didn’t really mean it. He tried to walk a few steps forward, but his head spun wildly and he did so, and he had to stop and grip the wall again for support. 

The third time he tried to walk, Kaz’s knees buckled and he almost dropped straight to the floor. He reached out the hand that was not pressed onto his side and came into contact with a delicate arm and a familiar quilted vest. 

_“What in Saints’ name have you done, you bastard?”_ Inej’s voice was soft and gentle, but there was a definite tremor running all the way through her words, the swallowing of panic and tears that Kaz had heard in her voice before. He collapsed suddenly against her and realised she was the only thing holding him up.

“Don’t curse, Wraith.” Kaz heard himself mumble, almost deliriously. “Do it in Suli.”

“Shut up.” Inej let her back slide down the wall, holding Kaz as she went. He heard her curse again, this time in Suli, as she tried not to crush herself under his weight. Kaz’s vision was blurry- he blinked, and the sky went white. It hurt his eyes, so he started to close them.

“Kaz? Hey, don’t do that. Don’t close your eyes.”

Kaz didn’t listen. She sounded far away, and the light was burning his eyes. They flickered shut. His side didn’t really hurt as much anymore, though he could feel the blood still pouring out of it- and the tremor of Inej’s voice, turning from calm to panicked to downright hysterical in a matter of seconds. He would have slipped away somewhere, listening to her voice in the distance, if it weren’t for the hand that slapped his face violently.

_“Kaz! Look at me, you son of a bitch!”_

With a start, his eyes snapped open. Inej exhaled heavily. “Thank the Saints. Don’t do that again, okay?” Her hair was stuck to her forehead with sweat, and as she wiped her hand over it to get the hair out of her eyes, blood smeared across her face. It took Kaz a moment to realise it was his. His face stung a little with the force of her slap.

Kaz was more comfortable with touch than he’d ever been in his whole life, but only hers. It had taken seven years to get there, but somehow they had done it. Some days were better than others- some days, he would intertwine their fingers together, braid her hair, find her curled up with her head on his chest in the early hours of the morning. Some days, he couldn’t hold her hand, and some days it was like there was no progress at all. But there _were_ good days, and, lying there on the street with Inej’s hand pressed against his side in an effort to stem the bleeding, Kaz suddenly started to chuckle.

“I’m glad you slapped me…on a good day.”

“What?” 

“On a good…day.” He winced, as a shot of pain went through him. Before he could stop himself, he took hold of her hand. It was slick with his blood. His whole body went cold, and suddenly Kaz didn’t find anything funny anymore. He gasped in a breath and locked eyes with Inej. 

“This is not a great place to die, is it.” 

“You’re not going to die, Kaz.” Inej pressed her hand further into his side and he grimaced. Her hands were shaking. Kaz was about to ask how in the name of Ghezen she had decided he was _not going to die_ , but Inej cut in. 

“Don’t talk.” She said softly. “Just keep breathing.” 

Kaz coughed. He licked his lips and tasted blood- and salt. Inej wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, just as another tear fell and landed on his mouth. 

“Inej-”

“Stop it.” 

Kaz fell silent, though he wished she would talk. His breath was rattling in his chest and he didn’t like to hear it. Just as he was about to ask her to, she took a deep breath.

“I was on the rooftops. Watching you. You seemed kind of out of it when you left the tattoo parlour, so I thought I’d keep tabs on you.” Another breath, almost as shaky as Kaz’s. “I don’t know, it was stupid. I should have just gone home, but I followed you all the way to Reaper’s Barge. You were standing there for ages, just looking down at the floor, and I thought you were fine so I turned around at the wrong time- there was no one on the street, I thought it would be okay- god, it was so _stupid_ of me, I _never turn around_ , I mean- I was too slow, I didn’t see him until he was halfway across the street, and I tried to get down but he was already-”

“Stop.” Kaz put a bloodied finger on her lips, ignoring the sickening rush of fear it gave him. Inej never turned around- she was right- and Kaz never looked the other way without checking for an ambush first. But there hadn’t been a single one in over a year, and with Kaz’s nightmare the night before that had kept them both awake until the sun rose, their exhaustion had let their guards down. A stupid mistake, but after seven years of near peace, Kaz had begun to believe that maybe he wouldn’t have to be on his guard all the time. It seemed he was wrong. 

“Promise me…” He said, as the edges of his vision went black. He didn’t want to close his eyes again but it was clear he didn’t have much of a choice. “Promise me you won’t put me…on the barge. That would be…fucked…up.”

The last thing he thought before everything went dark was that their Saints would be really, really pissed at him.

**(Put on ‘Duet’ by Penny and Sparrow ft Stephanie Briggs <3 )**

Kaz woke up properly three days later in a decrepit little tavern down an alleyway by the side of Reaper’s Barge, not far from where he was stabbed. One look down at his torso told him the surgery had been hasty; bandages wrapped around his stomach covered a line of badly done stitches that ran jaggedly up and down his side. He had just uncovered them when a figure drifted out from the shadows, arms crossed, braid half undone. Wisps of dark hair fell in front of her tired eyes, swollen and bloodshot.

“Don’t do that, you’ll rip them.”

Kaz put the bandages back in place and let his head drop down onto the makeshift hammock he was lying in. He was too exhausted for words, so he lifted his hand as much as he could and motioned for her to come closer. Inej floated silently to his side, feet only just touching the floor; like a bird, about to take flight. 

“Some of the Dregs were passing by. I wouldn’t have been able to get you here if they hadn’t been there.” Slowly, she knelt down onto the floor and held out her hand. _Can I?_

Kaz looked out of the window. Although they were far from home, his crows were perched on the wire across the street. He supposed they had followed Inej here- after seven years, they had become quite good at it. There were ten of them. Kaz remembered something he’d read about crows, their numbers. Ten crows meant something _overwhelming,/em >. His throat constricted as he looked at his gloveless hands, but he swallowed it down and nodded. _Yes.__

__

Inej took his hand, lacing their fingers together. “Your hands are cold.” She whispered. Kaz wanted to laugh. _They’re always like that_. He watched as Inej’s eyes trailed over his torso, landing on the tattoo, dark eyes growing wide as she took it in. Her eyes flickered up to his, mouth falling open slightly. 

__

“Is this-” 

__

Kaz nodded. He raised an eyebrow. _You didn’t see it before?_

__

Inej seemed to understand, though it took her a long time before she could form a proper sentence. She was gaping at the arrow like a fish out of water, opening her mouth to speak and shutting it just as quickly. 

__

“I- I wasn’t looking.” She choked out finally. “There were other things happening, you know.” Motioning to Kaz’s bandages, she made a quiet noise that could have been a sigh or slight whimper. “Don’t know if you remember.” 

__

Kaz remembered all of it. He remembered how he did something stupid, how he believed he was safe even in the heart of Ketterdam when in reality it would never be like that, even after fifty more years, if he managed to live that long. He remembered how he was thinking of her, and how he would have died if she hadn’t been there to help him, and how he thought he was going to die. _‘That would be fucked up.’_ What pathetic last words. He was Kaz Brekker, he could have done better than that. 

__

Kaz took in a long breath and reached his other hand up to the back of Inej’s head, pulling it down gently so their foreheads were touching. For a long time, there was silence in the cold, empty tavern. It was early, but he could still hear voices from outside, loud and raucous, drifting in and out from underneath the doorway and into the backroom where the makeshift hospital had been set up. They faded in and out against the rhythmic sound of their breath mingling together; Kaz’s broken and shallow, Inej breathing slow and gentle. Kaz looked to the side- eight crows. Eight crows meant something profound; _a life-altering experience._

__

His face was wet, and suddenly he realised Inej was crying. Not quiet, as she usually was- but loud, hiccupping sobs that only increased in volume as he tried to wipe her tears away. 

__

“What is it…” she wept, “about us getting stabbed, huh? It’s just… its really inconvenient. And that stupid tattoo is making me cry, too.” 

__

Kaz did not know how to react. In all their years together, not once had she cried like this in front of him. He hesitated for a moment, and then pulled her down closer so her face was buried in his hair, careful to avoid his side which had begun to throb painfully again. His voice was hoarse and barely audible, but he tried anyway. 

__

“I can get rid of it, you know. The tattoo.” 

__

Inej looked up through shining eyes. “For Saint’s sake, Kaz. You got stabbed after getting that tattoo, there’s no way you’re getting rid of it.” 

__

“If you’re going to cry…every time you see it…” 

__

“Oh, go away.” 

__

They said a prayer, later that day, to Inej’s Saints. _“Thank you, Saints, for not killing him because he cursed too much.”_

____

“Hey, you try- getting stabbed… and then see…how you like it.” 

____

“I did, Kaz.” 

____

“Yes, alright, but this time you called me a…bastard, and a-” 

____

“Hey, they don’t need to hear about that. Just say thank you.” 

____

_Kaz sighed. “Thank you… Saints. Sorry my mouth…was raised in the Barrel, but…what can you do?”_

__

Eventually, the crows flew off, leaving only two. 

__

Two crows- 

__

_**_A change for the better._ ** _

__

_For once in his life, Kaz believed it._

__


	5. isaak and anya (fahey/van eck)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!  
> just in case you are interested I wrote a song with my friend about Kaz and Inej! It's called 'Inej's Lullaby' and is exactly 5 mins and 1 second long which is LONG HOLY COW.
> 
> Follow this link to hear on Soundcloud https://soundcloud.com/user-361526573/inejs-lullaby  
> and this one for youtube :) https://youtu.be/8x134mUFIwI

_chapter five  
Jesper.  
The song is North by sleeping at last. :)_

(p.s look for the Addams family reference!)

Jesper was twenty-five when they brought Isaak home for the first time. He had just turned eight; rosy cheeks and a bright smile, with ruddy golden curls like Wylan and as much energy as three Jesper’s combined, if that was even possible. Like Wylan, he couldn’t read or write, and although his father had not gone to such extremes as to hire a hitman for him- Jesper still couldn’t get his head around that- Isaak had been left at Ketterdam’s orphanage without so much as a goodbye or a good luck or any recognition that he had been anyone’s child. It was more of a _‘we’re sorry you’re such a failure, please never contact us again’_ kind of parting, and Jesper’s insides bubbled with rage every time he thought about it. What kind of a parent would ever do that to their child? 

_“Mine?” Wylan had said, raising an eyebrow. Jesper leaned into his embrace, ruffling Wylan’s curls.  
“Doesn’t count. Yours was a homicidal maniac.”  
“He didn’t look like one.”  
“Yeah, that’s because they look just like everyone else!” ___

__Jesper was awake for almost the entire night before they went to pick him up, thinking and thinking about whether it would work, of all the things that could possibly go wrong. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted a child- Ghezen, they had enough kruge to have one hundred children and still have money left on the side- but he wondered suddenly if Isaak would want to be their child. He had seemed excited, the times they had visited him, but what if he decided no? What if he changed his mind, and had to live locked in the Van Eck mansion for the rest of his childhood, miserable and lonely?_ _

__“Stop thinking.” Wylan rolled over and wrapped his arms around Jesper’s torso. “I can hear your brain whirring.”_ _

__Jesper was reminded of the night before Marya came to live with them, when Wylan was terrified she would hate it. He swallowed down the lump in his throat. “I just want him to have a real family. One he deserves.”_ _

__“I know, Jes.” Wylan mumbled sleepily. “He will.”_ _

__“How do you know?”_ _

__“Shh. Go to sleep. I love you, okay?”_ _

__The next day, Jesper couldn’t stop his legs jiggling in nervous apprehension as they signed the adoption papers, Wylan suspiciously calm and collected as he gave them to Jesper to read, hand on Jesper’s thigh underneath the table in an effort to stop him from sending the coffee mugs flying from the table and smashing against the wall. Before he knew it, everything was complete, and they were walking through the hallway into a dim little room where Isaak was waiting. Jesper’s heart hammered in his throat. He tightened his grip on Wylan’s hand and met his eyes. They were sparkling blue, exhilarated and shimmering with excitement; he caught Jesper in a steady gaze and nodded._ _

__Isaak barrelled straight into their arms as soon as he caught sight of them. He was bouncing around almost as much as Jesper, curls dancing around on his head, breathless and giddy and the exact opposite of what they had expected him to act like._ _

__“Is it for real?” Isaak looked up with wide eyes. He wore the awed expression of a child who had woken up to presents under the tree on Christmas morning. “Am I really allowed to go with you?”_ _

__Jesper took a moment to recover from his shock. “Of course you are, bug! I mean, we walked all the way here, so I hope so!”_ _

__Isaak threw himself into Jesper’s long limbed embrace. His voice was wobbly and filled with tears. “Thank you.” He whispered. “Thank you for being my dads.” Jesper couldn’t help it- he dissolved into tears right there, and Wylan followed not long after. They remained in a sobbing heap until the woman at the desk practically threw them out, and as they walked away from the orphanage, Jesper took Isaak’s hand._ _

__“You want to yell at it?” He asked. Isaak’s brow furrowed._ _

__“What do you mean?”_ _

__“I mean, do you want to yell at it? It’s like saying goodbye, except you’re saying it to a place you hated, and it’s more like a really crazy scream than a goodbye. Go on, I’ll do it with you. It’s probably quite therapeutic.”_ _

__Isaak glanced uncertainly at Wylan, who rolled his eyes at Jesper. _You’re an idiot._ He turned back to Isaak and winked. “Go for it, bug.”_ _

__The departure from the orphanage that day was certainly not a quiet one._ _

__

__The following year, Wylan brought Anya home in a bundle of blankets and tiny flailing arms and legs. Isaak could not stop staring at her; cradling her with the support of Jesper’s arms making sure he didn’t drop her, holding onto her little finger, eyes shining in wonder at the little person in his arms. For a long time, they were permanently exhausted. Jesper couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t have to drag himself out of bed five times a night to feed her or change her or rock her back to sleep for another hour of quiet. One night, when Wylan was passed out from tiredness and Jesper was standing at the window trying to stop Anya’s crying, Isaak came wandering down the hall and into their room._ _

__Jesper sat down on the armchair, and Isaak crept forward to perch on the arm of it, rubbing his eyes sleepily._ _

__“Why won’t she sleep?” He whispered. “Is she hungry?”_ _

__Splayed out across the bed, Wylan sighed in his sleep, and Jesper smiled through his exhaustion._ _

__“No, she’s not hungry. It’s just what babies do, they cry all the time until they’re older and then they learn how to sleep better.”_ _

__Isaak reached out his hand. Anya grabbed his finger in her tiny fist and opened her eyes. As soon as she saw her brother, her crying ceased almost immediately._ _

__“Hey, look at that.” Jesper exhaled deeply, and could have cried at the relief that spread across his entire body. After a while, when he was sure she had settled, he placed Anya gently down in her cot. Behind him, Isaak clambered across the bed and crawled under the sheets next to Wylan, who stirred a little, and, without opening his eyes, pulled Isaak in closer._ _

__“Hey, bug.”_ _

__“Are you tired?” Isaak whispered._ _

__Jesper heard Wylan chuckle wearily. His voice was heavy and thick with sleep. “Mm hmm. Very.” He reached out an arm and Jesper saw it extend towards him in the dark. “C’m here, Jes.”_ _

__By the time Jesper had reached the bed and slipped under the quilt, both Wylan and Isaak were fast asleep again._ _

__

__A few days later, Inej and Kaz met Anya for the first time._ _

__Jesper watched from the armchair in the sitting room as Wylan handed her over to Inej. He could hear Nina in the kitchen making waffles with Isaak; the clanking of crockery, whirring of a mixer, the delighted screams of a giddy child and probably _way_ too much sugar. “But _how_ did you make those dead guys come alive, Nina?” Jesper must have heard that question about a trillion times since Isaak met the Heartrender, but it still made him chuckle every time._ _

__Inej held Anya carefully. Her brown eyes were lit up, cheeks flushed, gazing in wonder; laughing as Anya grabbed a fistful of her hair and held onto it tightly. Jesper could not help but glance upwards to look at Kaz, who stood slightly apart from the rest of them. His gaze rested not on the baby, but on Inej. When she smiled, the corner of his mouth turned upwards into something that resembled one, and when she laughed, it was as if his whole demeanour changed- dark eyes sparking to life in a flicker of movement and light._ _

__Nobody asked if Kaz wanted to hold the baby. But after a while of being in Inej’s arms, Anya had begun to squirm and fuss, and Jesper was about to take her back when Kaz, black gloves on, reached out and took her._ _

__Anya went quiet for a moment. Jesper started to think about the first time Isaak met Kaz. He was so afraid of this dark, menacing stranger with his black gloves and devilish eyes, scared of all the stories they had been told in the orphanage of _Kaz Brekker, Dirty Hands, Bastard of the Barrel_ ; he was the demon in their nightmares, the one who would kill them in a second without so much of a glance in their direction- a murderer, slaughter, cold-blooded killer. But after a while, Isaak came to Jesper one morning. _‘I’m not scared of him anymore.’_ He’d said. Jesper had, with raised eyebrows, asked him why._ _

___‘Because I like the way Inej looks at him.’_ The young boy fidgeted with the button on his coat. _‘She looks at him like she trusts him. She’s not scared of him, I think she loves him, really. And I love Inej, and I trust her, so I guess I must trust him too.’__ _

__In the sitting room, everyone held their breath. Anya looked at Kaz for a long time, her big eyes roaming his face, and all of a sudden she started to giggle. Reaching for his gloved hand, she grabbed his finger and held it, babbling happily. Kaz looked up- he was smiling. Jesper had never seen him smile like that before._ _

__“I like her.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this whole ass chapter is tireddadsTM and I'm not sorry.


	6. (song recommendations)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these are just some character songs i have found that the lyrics match up PERFECTLY to the story/ character. the last chapter will be finished soon <3 but for now have a listen to these!
> 
> you can find my full six of crows/crooked kingdom playlist on spotify here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3TPUlT6iQpZwNQo2sp7jyn 
> 
> and all the songs included in this fic here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1U4tZY0Y7BJcFIjR4PfKaL aside from this 'chapter' :)

_**my favourite character songs** _

kaz brekker  
-beautiful crime/ tamer  
-i'm a wanted man/ royal deluxe  
-call me devil/ friends in tokyo  
-never forgot/ kendra dantes

inej ghafa  
-wraith/ snow ghosts  
-are you with me/ nilu  
-devil's backbone/ the civil wars  
-yellow flicker beat/ lorde

nina zenik  
-kill of the night/ gin wigmore  
-confident/ demi lovato  
-nina cried power/ hozier, mavis staples  
-s.l.u.t/ bea miller


	7. it's a promise (fin.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last chapter!! aaah!! 
> 
> honestly writing this has been so so great for me and a good distraction from the stuff going on right now, so thank you so much to anyone who has commented/ left kudos!! 
> 
> also thank you to my gorgeous friend Nina for letting me give this to you in chapters every week through your post box as a gift. it has been so fun to hear you reacting to each one and i'm glad you liked the ending ;)

_Chapter six  
Inej._

_the song for this chapter is ‘dear wormwood’ by the oh hellos x_

For a long time after, Inej could not stop thinking about Kaz with a baby in his arms. 

It was not because she wanted one with him. _Saints, no._ The more Inej thought about the two of them raising a child of their own, the more it made her want to scream. Of course, it was not because she did not love him. She did love him- she just knew they were not made for that kind of life. Kaz, with his icy stare and cold hands and thirst for revenge that kept him restless at night even when Van Eck was long gone, and had been gone for a long time. Inej, and her memories of The Menagerie; dreams of being tossed around at the bottom of a slaver ship. Her thirst for revenge, the kind that sent her onto the ship year after year in search of the next boat she could attack until there was nothing left of it except the kidnapped girls hidden under the decks. _The nightmares. The attacks. The memories._ They had both killed, murdered, stolen. For the right reasons, most of the time, but sometimes not. Kaz told her all the time she was better than he; that she was good, would _always_ be good, no matter what she did, what crimes she committed. 

_‘You have it in you, still. You haven’t let the Barrell take it away.’_

_‘What about you?’_

_A laugh. A cold, choked laugh full of exhaustion and regret and anger. ‘I let this place have it as soon as I stepped into the city.’_

_‘Why?’_

_Kaz blinked. His eyes were wet._

_“It was the only way.’ He said. ‘The only way to survive.’_

He told her she was good, but Inej did not always believe it. They were both good, and they were both bad. They could not bring a child into the world when they barely knew how to exist themselves, where the things they had done haunted them every single night until they were gasping for breath and writhing under the sheets. There was The Menagerie, and there was Jordie. Two pasts keeping them apart; memories so suffocating it was a miracle they were able to stay in the same room together- in the same _bed._ It was so strange, and yet Inej did not mind it. It was how they lived- their way of existing, side by side, working together to keep themselves from falling apart. Loving each other in a way that was perfect for them, and a mystery to everyone else. 

On the deck of the ship on her twenty seventh birthday, Inej held her quill over a piece of paper. She had seen how Kaz had looked at Anya, who was now three and possibly the most loyal friend the Bastard of the Barrell had ever had- and for some reason it gave her hope. 

_Brekker,_

She always called him this now. Insisted that if he called her Wraith, she might as well have a nickname for him, too.

_We’re around the Novy Zem harbour. Should dock in a few hours. Will be back in Ketterdam at the start of next month, I hope._

She stopped writing. Swallowed the lump in her throat. Pressed pen to paper again, blinking the tears out of her eyes. 

_There’s this ceremony people do, in Suli culture. I’ve been thinking about it. Kind of a religious thing, but you don’t have to believe in Saints to do it, it’s just symbolic._

_It’s like a marriage, Kaz. Not legally binding. No one belongs to anyone. It just means that you’re united in some way. You vow to protect each other, stay with each other for as long as you can. It’s a promise._

_I don’t know why I want you to know this. I love you._

_Don’t get yourself stabbed._

She always ended a letter with this, even though that was almost four years ago. It always made Kaz laugh.

_Inej._

_p.s send the others my love. I hope Anya is treating you well._

She sent the letter from Novy Zem harbour, and received a reply faster than she expected. No introduction, barely anything- not even her name. Just one sentence.

**_We protect each other anyway, don’t we?_ **

And then, in small letters at the bottom.

**_It’s a promise._ **

**_I love you too._ **

**_(Anya is doing fine. Commanding us as always. She made me have a tea party with her yesterday. I haven’t been the same since. By that I mean I can’t stop drinking out of tea cups. Don’t tell anyone I’ve said this, but it may be a problem.)_ **

The ceremony consisted of nothing but a small, red piece of string. Inej knelt on the floor of their room in the Slat two months later and held out her finger, wrapping the string around it and knotting it tightly. 

She reached for Kaz’s gloveless hand. He did not flinch, but instead held her eyes in a steady gaze as she wrapped the piece of string around his own finger, knotting it. When she was finished, they both had makeshift rings- connected to each other by a single, tiny line. 

“We don’t have to do this, Kaz.”

“I want to.” A pause. “Do you?”

“Yes.” She reached for the scissors. Closed her eyes. Let her head fall forward, forehead bumping against his. His hair was longer now, and she could feel it brushing lightly against her skin. “Now we say the prayer. In Suli.”

She felt Kaz’s forehead crinkle, and knew he was smiling. “I know my Suli.”

“Then say it with me.”

After the prayer, she cut the line, and her eyes travelled to the tattoo on Kaz’s bicep almost unconsciously. She watched the muscles of his jaw twitch with tension; holding his breath steady, staring at the ring around his finger. His eyes flickered upwards and met hers with a burning intensity. 

“Rietveld.” He said. “It stands for Rietveld.”

Inej softened her gaze. “I know, Kaz.” She had heard the name before, details of the story, though never with much coherency, and always with things left out. The time when Kaz got so drunk she had to practically drag him up the stairs to their room- dropping him onto the bed and listening patiently as he mumbled things about _‘Rietveld Rietveld Rietveld…’_ The time he’d had a fever, when she’d sat by his bedside for four days listening to his disjointed and mostly incomprehensible strings of words about his brother and the Barge and how he wanted to touch her but _he just couldn’t._ “You would have liked him.” He had mumbled, delirious. “Jordie. He was stupid. He was _so stupid, we were both so stupid, Inej-_ He’s not here. He’s not here. He’s where the others go. Down there.” She did not have to ask him what that meant; she had figured it out a long time ago, when Kaz had stood by Reaper’s Barge with his dead eyes and blank expression. She knew what Rietveld meant, even if he had never wanted to talk about it. 

In the bedroom, Kaz sighed. His eyes flickered shut, and he nodded. “I thought so. I’ve told you before, haven’t I.’ It was more of a statement than a question. Clearly, he knew.

‘I figured it out.’ She said carefully.

‘Yes.” Kaz took her hand. “I knew you would.’

Inej got the tattoo three days later. She was planning on telling him about it as soon as she arrived back at the Slat, and thought about it all the way home as she crept silently across rooftops and clambered up and down building edges. Twenty seven years old, and she still could not remember how to walk the streets as normal. Whatever anyone said, she was still the Wraith, and she doubted she would ever be able to let that go, no matter how many years passed. _I got the tattoo,_ she would say as she dropped in through the window, careful to avoid his eyes in case his reaction was not what she was hoping for. _Rietveld. I got it for you, and for Jordie. I got it because we’re family now- you and me. We protect each other, like your brother protected you. I won’t let the world forget him, Kaz. He doesn’t deserve to be forgotten, not by anyone, not by you._ She was planning on saying all of it as she swung open the latch of the second floor, and as her feet hit the hard ground, and as she looked up to see Kaz sitting in his chair, looking down at the floor. His head was in his hands, and although he was not crying- Kaz, even at twenty eight, did _not_ cry often, much like when he was a boy- the tension in his muscles told Inej something was wrong. 

Kaz lifted up his head. His eyes were rimmed with dark shadows. He pointed to the doorway to the hall, which was cracked open slightly. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, voice breaking. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“What are you talking about?” Inej did not make the effort to take his hand or move closer; she knew from experience that this was not the best time for close contact. “What did you do?”

Kaz swore under his breath and put his head back into his hands. “I couldn’t do it.” He said. 

“Couldn’t do what?”

_We’re family now- you and me. We protect each other, like your brother protected you._

“I couldn’t leave her there.”

Inej was beginning to panic. “Leave _who?_ ”

The ‘who’ was a girl. Fourteen or so, if Inej had to take a guess. Dressed in red and gold silk, though most of her clothes had been damaged, ripped and as dirty as her face. She had the distinct look of someone who had been living on the streets for some time, and by the clothes Inej recognised where she had run from. _The House of the White Rose._ The brothel, where Nina had worked as a healer all those years ago. Inej had assumed it had fallen into disrepair the same as Tantee Heleen’s- but Inej had been on a sailor ship for a long time. Evidently, someone had put more kruge into it while she was gone.

But it was not the girl’s clothes or the state of her that stopped Inej’s rapid heartbeat. It was the colour of her skin, her features, the same ones that Inej saw in the mirror every day when she looked into it. 

“You’re Suli too.” The girl spoke suddenly, in their native language. She seemed to have relaxed considerably since Inej walked through the door. Now, her eyes were less wary, less guarded, as if she were in the presence of family instead of a stranger. 

“Have you come to rescue me?” The girl continued. She was growing more confident every second, and seemed not to notice that Inej was unable to reply. “I don’t know what he wants with me, but I won’t do anything. I won’t join the Dregs, I swear it. I only agreed to follow him because I was scared to say no. We can get away right now if we-”

“I’m not-” Inej found the words to cut in. It felt like someone was squeezing their hands around her neck, and she struggled as she spoke. “He’s not- He doesn’t want to you join the gang.”

The girl crossed her arms. She seemed, to Inej, ridiculously confident given the situation. 

“Then what does he want?” She demanded. “He can’t have taken me off the streets for nothing.”

Inej couldn’t help it; she lurched over to an armchair and landed heavily in it, bringing her elbows to her knees and running a hand over her face. _Oh, Kaz._

Slowly, the realisation dawned on the girl. Her mouth gaped open as she finally took in Inej’s appearance- vest, cape, the knives belted around her waist. “You’re the Wraith. You work for him, don’t you?”

“We work together.” Inej said. “What’s your name?”

“Kiara. Why do you work together?”

“Because-” Inej’s explanation came slowly. “He helped me get out of a place I didn’t want to be in.” She took in Kiara’s appearance again, and tears sprung to her eyes. “A place like you’ve been in.” She did not need to ask the girl how she came to be in Ketterdam- with a burning, fiery rage right in the pit of her stomach came the answer; with memories of being taken and sold to Tantee Heleen came the answer. 

Inej stood up, and before she could stop herself she had wrapped Kiara in a tight embrace. The girl stiffened at first, but after a moment her body softened, and the hard exterior she had been fronting fell away, layer after layer. 

“What does he want with me?” Kiara whispered. Inej made a sound that could have been a sob or a gasp of pain.

“Nothing.” She held Kiara closer. “Nothing, he just- I don’t know.” Of course Inej knew. She knew Kaz must have seen her, on his way through the Barrell; a lost, hungry Suli girl escaped from a brothel, awaiting a hundred punishments if she were found and even more, on the streets of the Barrell, if she was not. She knew Kiara had reminded him of her, and that leaving her behind would live in his conscience forever. However cold-hearted, murderous, however much of a monster he was, she knew he was not beyond kindness, and she knew it would have killed him to leave the girl when she was so much like Inej herself.

“Can we trust him?” Kiara asked. 

“Yes.” Inej began to sob. “Kiara, there’s no one else I could trust more. With my life, with everything, I promise. You’re safe here.”

Kiara pulled out of the embrace and looked at Inej carefully. “He’s your- boyfriend, isn’t he.”

“What? No, he’s-”

“Your husband then?”

Inej hesitated. She didn’t like that word, and neither did Kaz. That word talk of ownership, and he knew as well as she did that she was not owned by anyone, not anymore. “No. Not really.” She said slowly, wiping the tears from her eyes and silently cursing herself for crying so easily in front of someone almost half her age. It seemed that, as Kaz and she grew older, the cold exteriors they had been able to mask themselves with were getting harder and harder to keep up with.

“It’s…complicated.” _Complicated._ That was one way to put it- an understatement, really. Their relationship was much more than _complicated._

Kiara narrowed her eyes. “So what _do_ you need me for, exactly?”

Inej looked through the doorway to the shadowed figure standing by it. Kaz’s dark, red rimmed eyes met her own, and she nodded. 

“You’re going to stay with us.” She said, still in Suli. “Until I can get you on a ship, and then I’m taking you back to your family.” 

Kiara’s eyes shone awash with fresh tears, and finally she seemed as though she had nothing to say. When she finally did, it was to remark: “He scares me. Big time.”

Inej could not help but laugh. “He can understand you, too.”

“What?”

“He speaks Suli. I taught him.”

It was past three in the morning by the time Kaz came to bed, and only then did he catch sight of Inej’s tattoo. Something passed over his face that she could not quite catch- a shadow, maybe, but the emotion behind it was unclear to her, and as she shifted onto her elbows to try and get a better look at his eyes, he dropped his coat to the floor and climbed in next to her without a word.

Slowly, his fingers reached out to brush against the tattoo on Inej’s bicep. She shivered at the coldness of his hands, the gentleness of the touch that felt as light as a butterfly landing on her arm and fluttering its wings. Kaz was quiet. The moonlight streaming in though the window made his eyes a deep brown. _The colour of bitter coffee,_ she always used to think, though now there was something else reflected in them, something less sharp, less bitter. _Normal coffee, then._

Kaz did not speak, but Inej saw him smile. All pre planned words had escaped her, and for a long time they looked at each other in silence. 

And then, they slept.

Kiara left a month later, with a newfound knowledge of poker, fight combat, and how to pick a complicated lock with nothing but a hairpin and quick fingers. The ship- Inej’s ship- was leaving at noon, and with help from Kaz they had located Kiara’s family back in Ravka. She would be with them in a matter of weeks. 

Inej had just secured the belt around her waist when Kiara bolted around the corner. 

“They’re at the door.” She said. “Want me to let them in?”

Jesper, Wylan and the children burst in moments later in a flash of noise and excitement and hyper-activity. Conversation started all at once, and between greetings and embraces Inej caught a glimpse of Kaz out of the corner of her eye, standing apart from the group as always, gloves on. His eyes lit up at something in front of him, and Inej looked down to see what it was- a _someone_ ; Anya, with her tiny hands and coat buttoned up to her chin, holding out her arms in silent demand. 

Kaz reached down and picked her up. “Hey, monster.” 

Anya looked at the hands holding her and tapped them lightly. “Gloves on today.” She said simply. Kaz raised an eyebrow, and then sighed. 

“Yes.” He said. “Gloves on today.”

“Okay. Good.” Inej was always fascinated by the distinct lack of judgement the three year old had for people, how she accepted them without question. Granted, she hadn’t grown up hearing stories about how Dirtyhands would come and cut her throat in the dead of night, but still. It was something. 

After a while Kaz put Anya down and she tottered off across the room toward her parents. He looked up, realising Inej was watching him, and made his way to meet her by the door, out of sight from the rest of them. 

“Gloves on today?” Inej titled her head to look at his hands. Slowly, the gloves were slipped off. 

“Not right now.” He said. Then, before she could say anything more, he took the sides of her face in his hands and kissed her. 

The kiss was small, quick, only pressing to her lips for a moment before Kaz pulled away. His breath was shaky, but his hands, for the first time, were still. 

_Anya._

On the other side of the room, Anya watched her parents’ friends with wide eyes. There was something strange and beautiful about them, and though she was too young to fully understand, _it made her smile even so._

_fin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -honestly i did start hysterically sobbing when i finished typing this for a full 20 minutes. i call that 'kaz deserves better and so i gave him a toddler as a best friend and now i can't get over it.'
> 
> (p.s i may or may not do an Isaak and Anya sequel lol. stay tuned x)

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if the details are very wrong in this, pls spare my life. hope you enjoyed.


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